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Author Topic: the poems thread  (Read 268284 times)

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Musings

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1440 on: September 12, 2013, 11:08:28 PM »

I've got
one foot in the city
and one foot in the grass

I've got
one eye in the present
and one eye in the past

I've got
one hand in the sciences
and one hand in the words

Oh, and I've got
one heart with you,
but that's the only one I've got,
so I'm gonna need that back.
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armyoflarry

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1441 on: September 13, 2013, 06:58:02 AM »

I've got
one foot in the city
and one foot in the grass

I've got
one eye in the present
and one eye in the past

I've got
one hand in the sciences
and one hand in the words

Oh, and I've got
one heart with you,
but that's the only one I've got,
so I'm gonna need that back.

love it!
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Indja

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1442 on: September 16, 2013, 05:48:11 PM »

omfg i love everything on this page, you guys are perf.

i wrote something last week bc i'm leading a worship on wednesday about silence and stuff and thought it might be a nice way to lead into it, and i'd really like some feedback? i can't do line-breaks, never know where to put them, so i'm afraid it's just in paragraph form if that's ok? anyway, any feedback/advice would be greatly appreciated.

--

the sun sets and sits low under the horizon, gathering. the light wraps about itself, folding in towards the centre growing dense and ready as the moon stands guard until the night’s ink starts to fade and the sun exhales. a waking sigh of cold new grey, the rush of noon bright clear, soft white and gold as evening approaches, and the last struggled push of purple and blue. empty, spent, the sun retreats past the edges of the sky and begins its next breath. compared, the tide against the shore is rabbits’ panting and our own lungs vibrate a constant buzzing hum. the noise consumes us, our breath rattling and gasping so that what comes easy to the world - hesitation, stillness - is to us a fear to overcome. weight on our back foot, we inch towards the edge. glance backwards, hard swallow, and plunge into silent light. we will surface in seconds, gulping for noise and motion, grasping for distraction. but beneath us always the steady quiet breathes, waiting patient for our return.
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armyoflarry

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1443 on: September 17, 2013, 07:08:47 AM »

Good poem indja, but trying to read it that way almost made my brain break. I need my art broken up into bite-sized pieces or my ears start to smoke. But I did really like it.
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Musings

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1444 on: September 17, 2013, 03:53:37 PM »

Hi Indja,

Nice work -- I like the imagery and details like "the night's ink starts to fade" and "weight on our back foot".  If I had any suggestions, it would be to not overly rely on adjectives in your third sentence that begins "a waking sigh" and let the strength of your stronger phrases speak for themselves.  Also if you're reading it aloud, practice it to see if the pausing works for you. 

If I read the first two parts, it would look like:

the sun sets
and sits
low under the horizon

the light wraps about itself
folding in
growing dense

the moon stands guard
until the night's ink
starts to fade.

the sun exhales.

....

But obviously my style's a lot different.  Do what works for you!  Again, awesome imagery.


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Musings

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1445 on: September 17, 2013, 04:04:37 PM »

(I swear sometime I will stop writing poetry about my ex.... but this is also very much influenced by Indja's piece above!  Thanks!)

this is the legacy you've left me with:
a broken string, disharmonious--
i cannot make a melody.
 
the discordant noise
folds me upon my knees,
and i pray for silence.

this legacy, my damaged instrument -
i would toss it to you,
if I wasn't so sure you'd fix it.

no, i'll take the shattered chords
and build a drawbridge
that will fall apart
upon your footsteps,
leaving you drowning,
leaving me alone
in a cacophony
of my own creation.
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Musings

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1446 on: September 17, 2013, 04:27:21 PM »

I'm sorry -- this is my third post in a row here in the span of too few minutes.

But -- had to comment that this:

Quote
the way she lifts down
from dawn’s curved
shoulders

made me shiver, Devery.  Nice work.
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Indja

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1447 on: September 17, 2013, 06:54:19 PM »

thank you guys so much :) @larry - yeah, sorry, i'm so used to writing in prose that poetry is really hard for me to structure xD i'm glad you liked it though! i read it to 2 friends of mine when i went through my whole worship with them and they seemed to enjoy it. now i just have to work on my nerves..... :-\ @musings - that's really helpful, thank you :) i got rid of a couple of adjectives, i think it was getting a bit cluttered in that part. and omfg i love "no, i'll take the shattered chords // and build a drawbridge" <3
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armyoflarry

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1448 on: September 19, 2013, 01:20:20 PM »

I had a square head, it was given to me.
I wasn't born with it. I used to be round and in the moment.
Full of mistakes and blistering passion.
Missing the mark, making a mess and loving every moment of it.
Then I learned how to be right.
I learned how to feel shame.
I learned how to make others happy.
I grew ugly corners and would feel sad when I felt trapped.
Guilt made points in my soul that pricked my heart.
I bled inside, I never dared to spit it out.
Fuck, I am tired.
I have some sandpaper.
I WILL BE ROUND.
It will hurt.
I WILL BE FREE.
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Musings

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1449 on: September 19, 2013, 04:31:06 PM »

Metal doors open lengthwise
taking you in.

You'll leap the floors
in bounds,
transcend the monotony
of single steps.

The smooth, effortless
glide.

When you reach the top,
the world seethes,waiting.

It takes you with
fiery breath,
spits you back out
worn and used.

But for those moments
suspended in ascension,
everything seems like
it can only go upwards.

 
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Musings

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1450 on: September 29, 2013, 11:02:18 PM »

Just saw Staceyann Chin and was inspired.  God, she's amazing.


I want someone to
pull me in
by the drawstrings

I want a bull
with horns that
pierce through me

I want to taste
the blade of insanity
on someone's lips

I want
to fly.
to fall.
to fly.
to fall.

I want to know
there is no difference --
only air rushing
in and out of my lungs
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Musings

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1451 on: October 06, 2013, 01:10:51 PM »

At off times, when I least expect it,
you slip in beside me--
a hand in mine at a corn maze,
a head resting on my shoulder
as I watch Glee.

I charge forward,
try to outrun your long strides.
My heart hurts from the effort--
the muscle has grown accustomed
to loving you, it still pumps blood
that speaks your name.

What I would give
to quiet my veins,
to calm my breaths,
to slow to a stop--
and find you
in the flesh,
telling me
the race is over,
we can start again.

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Rob

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1452 on: October 16, 2013, 11:18:26 PM »

Hi.

Just...Hi

I wanted you to know
That I'm still here.

Standing in the back
by the bar.
Sapphire tonic in hand.

Chatting up strangers,
waiting for friends,
and watching.

Mostly watching.


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Everybody dies
Frustrated and sad
And that is beautiful

Devery

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1453 on: October 21, 2013, 01:30:51 PM »




we count on one more
spin of the world
and on, again, to spring
like a bright machine
that runs on magic,
pieces of broken
and well-settled stars,
the moon's visage caught
between changes,
meadows marching through
velvet tunnels to the sea
and the sun that waits
below the surface
to shoot fire into the clouds
gathering over the hills
like halos


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"The world is going to hell in a hand-basket, but it sure is nice up here on the hill."   A. Kujawa

Pelle

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Re: the poems thread
« Reply #1454 on: October 22, 2013, 05:15:28 PM »

Part of a new song (not a 100% happy with what comes next so this is it for now):

Off I go pretending to be the master of my voice
My mouth twists and turns, I can’t make any of the words
A little beating heart tends the wounds that keep on growing
Outside and inside are much different, I'd like to show you

Down at the deep end, next to the fears, beneath the quicksand
Lies a carved box, in a cabinet hidden out of sight
The paint can be peeled off, the wood is rotten to its core
It still has the same content (but it can contain so much more)
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